


The BEN-nefits of Fake Dating

by VasaliaTheWise



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Angst, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Language, Mentions of Sex, Mutual Pining, Nudity, but not graphic, cw: families, cw: mentions of engagement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21957124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VasaliaTheWise/pseuds/VasaliaTheWise
Summary: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everybody! Here, your family won't shut up about you getting into a relationship so you and your friend, Ben Hardy, agree to pretend to be dating while hanging with them for the holidays. It seems easy, right? Well, some unspoken feelings may make things a little...complicated. (Partly inspired by the Hallmark movie Holiday Engagement)
Relationships: Ben Hardy x fem!Reader, Ben Hardy/Reader
Kudos: 11





	The BEN-nefits of Fake Dating

“If I have to see you single again on another Christmas, I’ll jump off a bridge!” your grandmother whined over the phone. You sighed deeply, out of reach of the phone on the speaker in your hand.

“She’s joking, of course!” your mom interjected.

Yeah right, with another year and another ring less finger in the midst of an Instagram feed full of clean, French manicures with the largest diamonds sparkling on the left hand with two billion likes, you had had it. Especially since a lot of those clean, French manicured hands of yours with large sparkling diamonds on the left hand with two billion likes were in your family.

So now every head that was female and greying turned to you in anticipation. And every holiday, from their wrinkled, pink lips and their hot breath full of peppermint came the dreaded question with the monotone, dreaded answer.

Then came Ben.

Charming. Funny. Smart. Single. Ben.

He sat in your car on the passenger side and his eyes widened at your grandmother’s comment.

“Oh, I just want you to be happy, dear! And know you’re taken care of!”

Your grandmother forgot to recall the new world of college degrees, Netflix nights with friends, job choices, and vibrators to think a man could possibly be in the picture for women in the 21st century.

This was where Ben came in. Especially his job for the next week.

Ben clicked his tongue a little and bit his lips in a way that almost made you miss the turn.

He reached over the clicked the red button on the phone to end the call.

“Well, she’s a little mad.”

“She’s mad for babies, that’s what. I think she just wants babies to play with without changing diapers or, you know, responsibility” you said.

“Maybe I should’ve brought a dog, then” Ben quipped.

It was ideal. But too ideal. Ben and you were friends. Just. Friends. No matter what your stomach felt. No matter what fantasies you had at night. Just friends.

But it was nice to live that fantasy for a week. Merry frickin’ Christmas.

You pulled the car over to the park and walked into the big house. Already a lot of your family had entered in and were having drinks in red cups as a sports game blared on the tv as opposed to nice Christmas music tinkling away.

“Oh, honey, welcome!” your mother greeted, walking in with a big hug, the red arms of her red sweater outstretched.

“And is this your boyfriend?”

“Oh, yes, I’m Ben, Ben Jones.” He greeted. He had a polite smile and had engaged in his role. Today’s audition he had to read the role of boyfriend to shut up the Karens for a week. Only no real script except what was discussed, and pure improv. Good thing he was paid to leap off of trucks and shoot fake guns for Micheal Bay.

How hard could it be? After all hard was his name. His stage name.

Your grandmother gawked at you.

“Oh my gosh! What a cutie! I haven’t seen a butt that perky since your grandfather in ’72!”

“Grandma!” you gasp, but giggling anyway.

You hug your mom very tightly, so much you can smell her. Ben merely gives her a platonic handshake.

But Ben handles being the dutiful boyfriend very well. People go over and drill questions into him. He hesitates a little and then replies quietly.

“So Ben, what job do you have.”

“I’m an actor, film, and television.”

Though one cousin of yours, who is at least six foot five and the size of a buffalo storms over, almost to Ben’s face. If it were not for the reindeer antlers hanging from his head, you probably would have been nervous.

“I’ll tell you Jonesey, my cousin, Y/N, is the sweetest, smartest, best girl ever.”

“I know! I wouldn’t be datin’ ‘er if she wasn’t!” Ben replies. His hands shoot out in front of him.

You can feel yourself biting your cheek insides in order not to smile.

Your cousin practically grabs him by the shirt collar and lifts him almost.

“If you break her heart or hurt her, I swear to God, man, I’ll cut your nuts off!”

“I-I won’t!” Ben insists being lowered to the ground.

But right as Ben turns around and sees your brother and you feel your stomach turn a little. Are your family members ganging up on poor Ben?

But he just nods his head and says “I think you seem like a nice guy, Ben, so ditto. But Y/N is a tough cookie, I trust you with her. And I trust her” he adds, he picks up his mug in the shape of Frosty the Snowman and lifts it as a toast in your direction.

Pretending to be dating was almost too easy. Natural, even.

It seems like forever, but the guests eventually filter their way out. Your family sighs deeply Your stepfather throws himself on the couch, almost melting into it.

“Well somebody has to pick up the dogs tomorrow…”

You can see Ben’s face light up.

“Dogs?” Ben interrupts, widening into the smile of a seagull offered a crumb of bread.

Your mom is a little taken aback.

“Uhm, yes…we have two German Shepherd puppies. We had to put them in a daycare center for the party. They’re cute, but a little rowdy,” she warned, shuffling her feet.

You have to hold Ben back from jumping into the car and picking them up now.

“I’ll go, why, I’ll even drive!”

“Well, thank you, Ben!”

“Anything for my best…”

You kick him softly into the back of his leg, threating harder later if he doesn’t keep it together.

“Anything for my best girl! That is! The best girlfriend ever!”

The night gets darker and everyone is exhausted from the greeting party.

“You guys are fine sharing a bed, is that right? Well, the only bed available is Y/N’s old bed…” your stepfather begins.

You are both muttering and Ben’s turning very pink.

“Yes, Dad! We are thinking about moving in, soon, so sharing a bed isn’t a problem.”

But you both head to the room, lock the door and sigh.

“This is gonna be harder than I thought.” You confess.

“I think we’re doing great!” Ben adds optimistically, looking around at the trinkets and clothes left on hangers and chairs in your room. “And we don’t have to sleep together, I brought an air mattress.”

Fighting the urge to wince from the comment, you begin chewing your bottom lip.

“I need to go to bed, when do you shower? There’s only two up here.” You suggest, fanning out your top from the sweat you gathered.

“Mornin” Ben added, noticing an old book on your shelf and curiously thumbing through it.

As you take some towels and walk off, you bump into your mother getting a laundry basket.

“Do you think they liked the cake I made?” she asked.

“Oh, they definitely did!” you assure.

“I just think I may not have put enough icing, you know the family always goes for the heavy sweet stuff”

“Oh, mom, your baking is always great! Fyi, Ben got a really big slice today if that’s a sign!” you tease.

She taps your shoulder lovingly.

“And how’s your relationship with Ben going?”

You pull your hands under the towel and squeeze.

“It’s…good mom, really good.”

“It’s just that today I noticed you didn’t hug or hold hands or kiss that much” she murmured, relaxing her arms so that the empty laundry basket seemed to dangle from her grasp.

“We wanted to be respectful. You wouldn’t want to see your daughter making out with a guy all evening, would you!”

Your mother’s eyes sparkled as if hesitant to give you an unexpected answer.

“Well, of course not!”

“Besides,” you say, turning to the bathroom and opening the door “he’s the kind of person who’d rather be private about touchy stuff, you know?”

Your mother hums in understanding and turns off to her room.

A warm homey shower and a nice bedtime routine got you all settled. Cleanliness of your body and mouth seemed to free you from the weariness of the social demands and your mental worries of what could go wrong.

But there was one more thing that did go a little wrong. When you walked back into your room Ben was lifting the blanket to get into the air mattress.

In his birthday suit.

You let out a scream and turned away immediately, not sure whether to be thankful or mortified or both. Ben saw you and let out a small yelp as well, he grabbed an old pillow and put it right over his junk. His whole head turned pink.

“I’m so sorry. You were taking your time and I thought I’d be under by the time you…y’know!!!” He seemed to curl down and you fought the powerful urge not to let your eyes wander to his eight-pack.

“Just put on some underwear for the love of God!”

You manage to get him in underwear and your mother’s fluffy pink robe full of flowers. Almost scoffing, you flop on your bed and fall asleep almost at once.

What you don’t see is Ben turning his head to look at you. He can’t go to sleep quite yet. Thoughts are racing thought his head far too fast for him to catch one and examine it.

Being in your room, seeing all your old trinkets, clothes, books, and even toys everywhere. Bits of your personality shine out to him. And now a younger, but your deeper, almost private self is now all around him.

He adores it and his heart is bursting silently. With widening eyes, he keeps still on the bed and observes each tiny detail as if it is a clue to reveal a bit more about you.

And there you are, your face turned right to face his, eyes closed and deep asleep. He admires how there’s a bit of moonlight from the window falling on you and he can see you.

There you are so close. If he got up now, he could touch your hand perhaps and even stir. He could place his head against your heart to feel how after everything today that it’s beating just, so, so slow. Your lips are curved into a smile. Is it a dream, perhaps? His hand almost reaches out, wanting to trace every bit of your face but he stops himself.

He nestles down on the pillow and your face is the last thing he sees before he closes his eyes and drifts off into uneasy rest.

Nights like these got quieter as the days got repetitive. There was a lot of smiling and conversing with each other in the day and in the evening, you both would be quiet. The air dripping with words that wanted to be said and yet could not be said for fear of something dying.

One evening the clock had struck one in the morning and neither one of you had gotten any sleep other than tossing and turning.

“Let’s just watch Christmas movies together!” Ben suggests childishly, and you nod. You two will sneak downstairs and watch The Grinch and Netflix together. One evening, Ben suggested The Snowman.

“It’s on Youtube, have you ever seen it?”

“No!”

“Let’s watch it!” Ben says, whipping out his phone and suggesting you scoot over.

It’s hard not to let your head fall on his shoulder and you force yourself to keep the slightest distance.

At the very end of the short little feature, the magical Snowman had melted, leaving the little boy alone in the snow as the credits rolled over a soft song with an orchestra and boy soprano.

Ben was bawling quietly.

“Oh my god…every bloody time…”

But as you reach over, you wipe off the tears and he looks right at you. You are both quiet.

“Go back to sleep, I need to have a smoke before I sleep.”

It had been a long smoke too.

On Christmas Eve, it was another small gathering. Mainly Grandma. She was eyeing you two as if she was watching the last five minutes of a Game of Thrones episode for any sudden, shocking twist or turn.

Like a kiss. Or a hug.

Ben could tell something was up and pulled up to her. “Well hello there, I’m Ben Jones, I don’t think I’ve talked with you much yet, but I’m dating your granddaughter.”

She nodded and gigged. Her eyes shone and brought energy not felt for about fifty years

“I know, we haven’t talked!” she replied, raising her shoulders a little in shyness.

“And I can’t leave a lovely lady all by herself!” Ben added with a wink.

You smiled. Ever the charmer where it counted.

You went over to the kitchen and heated up two mugs of hot milk and picked tow packets of hot chocolate.

But as you walked over to hand them to Ben right by the doorway there was a sudden burst of “OOOOOOOHHHHH!” from your brother.

There was mistletoe hanging over the two of you.

Mistletoe that wasn’t there yesterday.

You and Ben stared at each other, blinking. Then you looked at your grandmother, eyes wide and nodding.

You gave him a short peck. His lips were cold and reeked of onions from the pizza you ate, but it was soft and plump.

Ben looked back at you, dazed. You only half heard the cheering from everyone and the toasts.

You both looked at each other, the party went on, but it was as if you two were the only ones in the world.

“Y/N…” he starts….”I think I need some air…” he confesses.

“Me too…” you say, following after.

You both rush, the air is cool and soft, not freezing like the typical Christmas Eve and with a disappointingly green front yard in front of you and a semi-clear sky.

Before you can say anything, Ben looks up at you shyly.

“Can I kiss you properly? And date you proper? Not for fake…”

You take your hands on each side of his face, his green eyes grow to the size of your neighbors’ bushes.

“Uhm…it that a yes? It was a pretty bad kiss back…”

“Shut up” you insist before locking your lips onto yours for a much bigger improvement.


End file.
